


Stressed is Desserts Spelled Backwards

by quinnlocke



Series: Recipes for Love and Disaster [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Anxiety Attacks, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Gasp! They are roommates, Getting Together, Masturbation, Multi, Pastry Chef Yamaguchi, Pining, Programmer Tsukishima, Roommates, Self indulgent descriptions of food, mentioned bokuaka, mentioned konoha/yukie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-24 02:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12003183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnlocke/pseuds/quinnlocke
Summary: Tadashi is pretty sure he's going to be fired by the end of the week.Kuroo and Bokuto are crazy if they think he can make it in the kitchen.Yukie however sees potential and takes Tadashi under her wing to become Fukuro-Neko's new pastry chef.Kei is just happy to see his best friend smile again. But when Tadashi comes home smelling like heaven, he starts to realize that maybe he sees him as more than just a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to my stream fam, but most of all to Xey. I hope I show Yamaguchi as much love as you do.

_“Yamaguchi, you just secured yourself this job for as long as you want it. But I think we should discuss some more job training for you, or maybe just a change in where we put you. Next week I want you working with Komi, see if the kitchen isn’t the place for you.”_

_“What?”_

**Tadashi __**_9:10am_

*image sent*

I blame you for this

**Tsukki __**_9:12am_

You look petrified

**Tadashi __**_9:14am_

Oh really?! That’s because I am!! Why did I let you talk me into this job? I was a server! And I wasn’t the best but I made decent money. No, actually I made shit money we both know this. So really this will help me go a long way. But what business do I have working in a kitchen? 

**Tsukki __**_9:16am_

Shut up, Yamaguchi

**Tadashi __**_9:19am_

That has way less impact when in text format

**Tsukki __**_9:19am_

You will be fine. They’re not about to throw you onto a station you’ve never done before. Bokuto is a good guy and he’s really great at figuring out where someone's strengths lie.

**Tadashi __**_9:21am_

I’m an accountant, Tsukki, an accountant!

**Tsukki __**_9:23am_

Just because you got the degree doesn’t make you one. 

_** *Incoming Call Tsukki* ** _

“Yeah, I guess,” Tadashi mumbled, sliding his feet into his shoes as he juggled his backpack and keys.

“Tadashi I am proud of you for this.” Kei Tsukishima’s voice came through the speaker, calm and soothing - a rarity, but one Tadashi was still too jittery to appreciate, even though Tsukki had even used his first name instead of his nickname. Tsukki was usually abrasively honest and brutal on a _good_ day.

“What?” He dropped his bag for a moment and scrambled to pick up the contents.

“This, you doing this. I’m - proud.” Tsukki’s voice went from gentle to drier than a desert as he reminded, “You were hyperventilating at H&R Block commercials. Tax season became just a tad bit more stressful as a result.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

“Shut up, Yama. I didn’t mean that to come across like I was complaining,” Tsukki sighed. “What I meant was I am proud of you for taking the offer that Kuroo gave you instead of giving up. Lets face it, you were a shit server.”

Tadashi snorted by way of answer. 

“But obviously both Kuroo and Bokuto think you are at least worth a shot in the kitchen. If I remember half the stories I’ve heard, one third of the staff came in with no experience. But Yama, if you really don’t want to do this… I won’t be upset.”

“Tsukki… You’ve been covering too much of my share for too long.” Yamaguchi spoke more to his own reflection in the mirror than Tsukki as he inspected his uniform. The white chef coat was too bright compared to the slightly faded black pants. He’d need to buy new ones soon. These were not meant to be worn in the kitchen.

Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t last a week and there would be no need to buy new pants because he wouldn’t even have the money for… Tsukki’s voice broke his rambling thoughts.

“You’re my best friend and you’ve always had my back. The least I can do is have yours.”

Tadashi nodded even though he knew Tsukki couldn’t see it. “I’m tired of being useless.”

“You’ve never been useless.”

“Shut up, Tsukki,” he said half heartedly.

“That’s my line.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine.”

Tadashi sighed. “I hope so.”

***

Kei Tsukishima had few friends in this world. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of people he would willingly spend more than five hours with at a time. Tadashi Yamaguchi was the sole exception - someone he was spilling to spend days with. 

He’d known Tadashi since high school, when they’d met freshman year. Tadashi had been the victim of a group of bullies who thought his status as a foster kid was somehow an offense that made him a worthy target. Of course, none of them had the guts to admit that’s why they’d made him their target. Either way, Kei had used the fact that at fourteen he was already six feet tall as an intimidation factor - and although Kei had hardly expected or desired it at the time, he’d earned Tadashi’s undying loyalty. 

When they ended up attended the same college, rooming together had only seemed natural, and when they stayed in the city afterwards, sharing an apartment had seemed the obvious next step. Everything had been smooth sailing. Tadashi was a stress cleaner, Kei liked doing laundry, neither of them tolerated clutter. They lived in perfect harmony as roommates until their normal routines were abruptly shattered.

Kei had come home to find Tadashi hiding in the bathtub, still in his work clothes. He hadn’t gone to work. Despite Tadashi’s reassurances that it was a one-time thing, Kei found him again the next day, this time in bed. He’d only managed to get his shirt and tie on before the panic had set in.

Kei never asked Tadashi to explain what had happened to him, not that first time, and not when Tadashi finally admitted that he wouldn’t be trying again and quietly quit his job. He knew that asking would only make it worse. The only thing that mattered was that Tadashi had a degree in accounting, and that the idea of doing any job that had to do with his degree caused Tadashi to fall into a tailspin of absolute panic, and therefore they needed to find him a new career. 

The job at Fukuro-Neko was Kei’s last ditch effort to help his best friend. He’d lied to Kuroo and painted a picture of a new to the city, down on his luck kid just to get him an interview, and although Kuroo didn’t seem convinced of Kei’s story, he didn’t call him out on it either. Kei was certain that fib would come back to bite him in the ass one day. In all honesty, Kuroo would have hired Tadashi simply because Kei asked him as a favor, but in the moment all Kei had cared about was putting Tadashi’s name at the top of the list of people being hired. 

Kuroo had hired him without even an interview, much to Tadashi’s dismay. He was still waiting for the inevitable fallout of Kei’s lie, despite Kei’s insistence to the contrary. Kuroo wasn’t the sort to be pissed, and in fact he’d probably laugh that he was predictable enough that Kei got one over on him.

Kei shook his head free of the distracting thoughts and squinted at the line of code in front of him angrily. He loathed taking work home, but the project was due by the end of the week and his partner had somehow inserted an entire line of incorrect code into the middle of it. So rather than relax at home he was perched on the couch staring down his laptop, searching for the culprit.

Kei heard the tell tale sound of Tadashi’s keys being jammed into the lock. He never seemed capable of opening it in one go. After three jiggles the door finally swung open and Tadashi came in, loaded with several bags. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his ponytail was half out of the tie. He met Kei’s eyes and sighed.

“I still have a job.”

“You sound disappointed.”

Tadashi hummed in response and made his way to their small kitchen. Kei returned to his laptop and decided that figuring out what his moron partner had messed up could wait. He shut the lid and followed the sounds of bags and containers opening in the kitchen.

“You got free food, I see.”

“Bokuto, I mean Chef, says you’re too skinny and you need more meat,” Tadashi replied, pulling out plates and silverware. 

“Do you want to talk about your first day at all?”

Tadashi looked and him and his shoulders slumped. “I burnt the bisque.”

“Oh no, not the bisque,” Kei responded with mock horror. “Fukuro-Neko has never been bisqueless.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“So they tell me.” He shrugged, taking the plates from Tadashi’s hands and pushing him towards the table. “Sit, I’ll make the plates, you ramble.”

“So, first of all, you should know my official title is Commis - not to be confused with Komi, who was a Commis but is now a chef de partie under Konoha. He’s still angry that he ever had to be a Commis, because everyone in the kitchen still calls him Commis instead of Komi,” Yamaguchi began with a reluctant smile on his lips as he watched Kei work. “Now, you're probably telling yourself, those sound exactly the same, and you know what, they do. Yet he can _always_ tell when it's being said in French.”

Kei snorted and popped open the fridge and pulled out two beers. He propped the bottle against the counter and slapped the cap off. Tadashi glared at him, but Kei ignored him. He was always worried they were going to damage the counters and lose their security deposit. Kei handed Tadashi his bottle, leaving his on the table. Tadashi took a sip and a deep breath before continuing.

“I was reintroduced to everyone since apparently none of them knew who I was, well, except Komi and Chef. But that’s because Komi likes to know everyone and Chef makes it a point to know everyone.”

Kei hummed to let Tadashi know he was listening. Tadashi launched into an explanation of all the different stations and the people who worked them. Washio and Sarukui were the grill and saute chefs, but they often traded stations. Konoha was the sous chef, but Komi was his back up so they took on some of the same jobs. Onaga was only one step above Tadashi in that he didn’t have an assigned station; rather, he was training on all stations since he would leave in a year to go to the same culinary school Bokuto attended. Kaori was the garde manger and refused to be called by her last name, despite all the other chefs using theirs.

“Kei, she freaking cornered me within two hours! Which should not have been that scary except she’s nearly as tall as me!”

Kei sat the plates down and Tadashi took a minute to breathe and eat before continuing his story. “She cornered me in dry storage and demanded to know my opinion on women in the kitchen. I spent close to a minute just gaping like the fish she had filleted in front of me not two minutes before. Which let me say was… wow. Hot.”

Kei choked on his food.Tadashi laughed as he patted Kei on the back and passed him a napkin. “Only you would find someone filleting a fish hot, Yama.”

Tadashi shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “So I told her that I think kitchens are for everyone. She laughed at me and said that as a woman she had to work twice as hard to get where she is. That this was the first kitchen she ever worked in where she didn’t feel like she was being looked down on for being female. Then she punched me in the arm and said I was gonna do great.”

“Was this before or after you burned the bisque?”

Tadashi threw a piece of broccoli at his face and glared. Kei picked it up and ate it in small bites, one eyebrow raised.

“I don’t want to talk about the bisque.”

“Okay, tell me about what _did_ go right today then?”

Tadashi smiled and continued to tell Kei about his day. Eventually, once the dishes were done and Tadashi had showered, they found themselves in their usual spots on the couch. Kei on one end, Tadashi on the other, their legs intertwined. It was nice, it was simple, it was routine.

Kei smiled. Things were slowly returning to normal.

***

Two days of attempting to work the Garde Manger station with Kaori Suzumeda taught Tadashi two important things. One of them was that he had next to no knife skills. The other was that Kaori was the scariest woman he had ever met, second only to his foster mother. She’d run a tight house, expecting her charges to be respectful and to follow all of the rules, and Kaori was every bit as demanding in her expectations.

Sadly, she lacked the patience that his foster mother had, and by the end of the second day, she was almost as relieved as Tadashi to pass him onto Sarukui to learn saute.

Yamato Sarukui never stopped smiling, or at least it seemed that way. Even when Tadashi had spilled an entire pan of shrimp scampi onto the stove he still smiled and said, “Don’t mind.” He showed Tadashi how to use salt to put out the flames before continuing to teach him how to work with sauces. Tadashi managed to not screw up again, fortunately, and so his two days on saute went by smoothly.

He was supposed to work following two days on the grill with Tatsuki Washio, whose stern expression was the opposite of Sarukui’s, which had made Tadashi’s knees knock together. It took less than two hours for him to kick Tadashi off of his station - but to be fair, Tadashi nearly set his coat on fire.

“Commis, teach the new guy desserts,” Chef Bokuto said, hauling Tadashi away from the grill before Washio could do something he’d regret.

“My name is Komi, you ass!” Komi growled. Tadashi bit his lip to keep from laughing. Komi stood a head shorter than everyone and yet the high tenor of his voice effortlessly carried over the noise of the kitchen. Plus, the way he got riled up was almost like seeing a very angry bird ruffle its feathers.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Bokuto replied innocently.

“We both know you didn’t.”

“How can you tell?” Tadashi asked. “Seriously, how can you tell?”

Komi narrowed his eyes. “I just can.”

“Wow, Bokuto, you’re gonna let someone actually train on desserts?” Konoha called from the other side of the line. He was sending lunch dishes out for expo. Tadashi caught a smile from Hitoka and gave her a wave.

“I am more than capable of letting someone learn that station,” Bokuto replied, arms folded across his chest.

“I thought you were gonna leave it without a master for the rest of eternity. What with the loss of our pastry chef and all,” Kaori sing-songed from her station.

“Don’t remind me! It’s Konoha’s fault she’s been lost to us.”

“Stop acting like I’m dead!” A shrill female voice rang through the kitchen, drawing everyone’s attention. A short cherry haired woman came out from Kuroo’s office, Kuroo’s smirking face following her out into the kitchen proper. “I swear the lot of you are a bunch of drama llamas.”

“Happy llama?” Sarukui piped up, his voice lilting.

“Sad llama,” Washio intoned.

“Loopy llama!” Kaori cried.

“Fat llama!” Komi chirped.

“Moose!” Bokuto finished, and everyone burst out laughing.

“You must be Yamaguchi. Akinori has told me about you,” the woman said, walking forward through the chaos without batting a lash. “I’m Yukie Shirofuku.”

Tadashi offered hand but she opened her arms for a hug. “Ah, ah, ah, I’m a hugger,” she chided with a grin. He bent at the waist and let her embrace him. He caught a smile from Konoha and assumed this was the girlfriend everyone always teased him about.

“So Bokuto, I see you still haven’t hired anyone to actually run the dessert station.”

“Not true, I hired Yamaguchi,” Bokuto argued, lips in a slight pout.

“Yamaguchi got put in the kitchen because Kuroo thought he’d do better here,” Yukie corrected, which made Bokuto scowl.

Tadashi watched the two of them bicker back and forth over why he had been placed on kitchen staff. He caught Kuroo over Bokuto’s shoulder laughing quietly. Tadashi wondered suddenly if Kuroo had ever told Bokuto about his mistake and how it had caused the food critic to short them a star. He found himself starting to panic just thinking of what would happen. If Bokuto found out and knew that Tadashi kept it from him he might fire him, or he might have a fight with Kuroo since Kuroo knew, and oh god he was going to cause the restaurant to fall apart!

“I’m the one who didn’t pair the tarts correctly!” he suddenly announced. The entire kitchen froze and all eyes were on him. Tadashi’s shoulders tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head in shame. “It was me. It's my fault we only got four stars. I forgot to recommend pairing the port with the tarts. I’m sorry!”

Yukie covered a giggle with her hand as Kuroo smacked himself in the forehead. Bokuto turned to him with wide eyes and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“You didn’t pair the tarts with the port?”

“No, and I am so so - ” his apology was cut off when Bokuto pulled him into a near back breaking hug. This was how he was going to die. Squeezed to death by a hug. Honestly he should have seen it coming.

“Thank you!” Bokuto shouted excitedly when he let Tadashi come back up for air. 

Tadashi stared at him blankly. “What?”

“If you hadn’t done that we would have gotten five stars. We would have overlooked the drop in sales for some of the desserts. We would have continued as is and in a year we might have finally noticed the sales drop and then would have needed to do an emergency revamp. Not to mention because we only got four stars, I was _forced_ into a sabbatical,” he said, tilting his head in Kuroo’s direction.

“It was for your own damn good!”

Bokuto continued over him, “And on that sabbatical I met the most wonderful, beautiful, and amazing person in the world.”

“Did you tell this wonderful, beautiful and amazing person that the reason you were forced to leave the kitchen was because you set it on fire?”

“The flames were meant to be that high!”

Bokuto and Kuroo started bickering with one another and Yukie took the chance to pull Tadashi aside. 

“How would you like to remain on desserts? Whatever Bokuto says, the station needs a leader and you are, as my old teacher would say, the perfect blank slate. You don’t have any bad habits to unlearn, and you won’t be worried about stepping on anyone else’s toes.”

Tadashi exhaled a shuddering little breath. “Are you sure?”

“Give me your hands.”

He held out his hands and Yukie took them. She turned them over, rubbed the pads of his hands, pinched his fingertips and then squeezed them tight.

“These are good dessert hands. Not too hot, not too cold. They’re flexible, good for holding piping bags.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. Plus, you’re in luck. I have a week before classes begin and I am incredibly bored. So I had already planned to come by and offer to run my old station. Now I get to do that and make sure it’s being run by someone who will do things the right way. Which is my way.”

“Yukie! Did you just give away a station in my kitchen without my involvement?” 

***

Kei listened to the familiar jingle of keys in the lock and looked up when he heard the door open.

“I have food!” Tadashi yelled excitedly and Kei could hear him trip over his feet in the hallway, letting out an “Oomph.” Kei met him the in the hallway and took a bag from him. He thought he caught a whiff of something as he leaned in close to take the bags, but it was fleeting.

Even so, that fleeting hint distracted him. He watched Tadashi putter around the kitchen but only caught about half of what he was saying. The smell lingered still and Kei could not figure out for the life of him what it was, only that it was absolutely intoxicating.

“So then Yukie tells me I have the hands for dessert and we spent the rest of the day training. I made you something special.” Tadashi’s voice filled with shy delight. “We’ll have it after dinner. Chef wants me to start thinking up new ideas for the dessert menu since we’re gonna remove some items.”

Tadashi impulsively pulled Kei into a hug and Kei finally realized what the smell was. Tadashi’s hair smelled like vanilla. It was sweet and heavenly and Kei wanted to bury his face into it. Tadashi pulled away and flashed him a beaming smile.

“Thank you so much, Tsukki. Today was - amazing. I really think this might be my true calling.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a to-go container. When he opened it, Kei saw a yellow cake with white frosting and strawberries on top. His mouth watered at the sight. Tadashi grabbed a fork and scooped a bite into Kei’s mouth.

“Good?” Tadashi asked, poorly hiding his anxiety.

Kei nodded because he had no words. He had no words because his brain stopped working. His brain stopped working because the smell of vanilla in Tadashi’s hair woke up some deep feeling he hadn’t realized existed. Kei wanted to pull Tadashi to him, hug him close, bury his face in his hair, and then probably kiss him senseless.

“Delicious,” he said. 

Things had gone back to normal… until suddenly they hadn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

“Coming through, hot stuff!” Komi yelled as he passed behind Yukie and Tadashi. Tadashi watched as he walked by with an… empty pan. He quirked his head in confusion and Yukie rolled her eyes. 

“He’s saying he’s the hot stuff.”

Tadashi laughed and mimicked giving himself a smack in the head. “Duh.”

“Everyone has their little jokes in this place. You’ll have your own someday. But first, you need to explain to me what’s happening to your meringue.” She pointed towards the mixer where the egg whites that Tadashi had blended with sugar weren’t fluffing up like they should.

Tadashi shut off the machine and pulled the whip out and watched the meringue dribble down. “I don’t get it… I added the sugar and the egg whites, I let them mix on setting two until they frothed and then shifted it to setting three.”

“You forgot the third ingredient.”

Tadash’s shoulders slumped and he grabbed the bottle of cream of tartar and held it out to Yukie like an apology. 

“Start it over.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A swift smack on the ass had him yelping. “Sorry, Yukie!”

“I want you to start thinking you belong here,” she remarked with a kind note to her voice.

Tadashi was taken aback and regarded her warily. She smiled and cupped his cheek. 

“You’re scared right?” 

He nodded, not trusting his voice in that moment.

“I don’t know what brought you here,” she began. “Or why you always look ready to run. But trust me, if you let it happen… you’ll find your place here.”

***

Kei stared at the cake in the fridge angrily. He knew it would be delicious. It was chocolate with a cherry infused ganache between the layers. It would be the most heavenly thing to ever cross his lips. It would also undoubtedly make him think of Tadashi, and those thoughts were lately going in a direction that he was sure would eventually kill him, or make him open his mouth and say something stupid… which would also kill him.

Kei had never really been interested in relationships. He’d dated sparingly throughout college and had only slept with two people during that time. One had been a very misguided one night stand to prove to himself once and for all he wasn’t gay. His second sexual encounter was his confirmation that he was indeed _very_ gay. He’d venture to say that relationships didn’t interest him because most people in general didn’t interest him.

He hadn’t dated since graduating from college, and ended his one and only long term relationship upon graduation, because it was easier to break up with Thomas than it was to try and make long distance work. Also, he had zero interest in leaving Seattle and moving all the way across the country to New York -- that would have meant leaving Tadashi behind. 

He was smart enough to realize that the feelings he currently suffered from smacked of romance, despite his best efforts. What bothered him was their sudden appearance. Tadashi has been in his life for over a decade. Why now was he suddenly seeing him in this new light? He thought at first it had simply been the gut punch of the heavenly smells. Kei had a massive sweet tooth, one that Tadashi frequently poked fun at him for. Every day that Tadashi came home carrying a new dessert and cloaked in some new smell, however, Kei fell further and further down the hole.

It had nearly come to a head the day before. Tadashi had been training on desserts for four days and had informed him he would be spending his day off trying new recipes at home in the hopes of being able to suggest something for the new menu. Kei hadn’t given much thought to it. He had spent his day at work fixing every bug in the code Andres, his most incompetent coworker, had left while also avoiding Hiroki, an over eager intern, who was dead set on Kei becoming his mentor.

Kei had come home to the ungodly sounds of pop music playing loudly in the kitchen, Tadashi’s tone deaf voice occasionally chiming in. Kei smirked at his choice of music. Of course he would listen to that while baking. He was about to make a snarky comment when the scene in the kitchen made him stop dead in his tracks.

Tadashi was… shimmying. Kei wasn’t sure if he had ever seen anyone shimmy before, and yet he knew that’s exactly what Tadashi’s hips were doing. He was wearing loose boxers, a tight white t-shirt, and the apron Akiteru had given them as a housewarming gift when they moved in. He held a spatula in his hand and singing into it like a microphone. 

“Talk to me, baby,” he crooned horribly, his hips gyrating to the beat. “I’m going blind from this sweet sweet craving, whoa-oh.” He danced around the kitchen like it was his own personal stage. “Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. Ah ya ya ya ya I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. I'll be… _Tsukki!”_ Tadashi squealed and smacked himself in the face with the spatula, smearing thick chocolate across his cheek. “Oh my god, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Kei bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to tease Tadashi and ruffle his hair like he would have a month ago. Instead he reached forward and ran his thumb over the spot on Tadashi’s cheek where there was a smear of chocolate ganache. Tadashi’s eyes widened and Kei stuck his thumb in his mouth and savored the flavor. Cherry and dark chocolate swirled together over his tongue.

“Tsukki?”

“Is that cherry infused?” he choked out. His eyes kept staring at the bit of chocolate on Tadashi’s face. His mind kept feeding him images of his tongue meeting Tadashi’s, wondering if he would taste like the cake he could smell baking in the oven.

“Yeah,” Tadashi said, running a nervous hand up the back of his head. His fingers disrupted his ponytail, making half of it hang out. Kei wanted to grab him by the back of the head, pull the hair tie out and run his fingers through his hair. Tip his head to the side and -- “Are you okay Tsukki?”

“I need a shower,” he said hastily, backing away from Tadashi so quickly he nearly collided with the doorframe. “Sorry, rough day. Andres fucked something up again.”

Tadashi nodded wordlessly and watched him walk out, his lips pursed with concern.

Kei stripped out of his clothes quickly and shoved his head under ice cold water as soon as he got himself into the shower. He swore at the sudden onslaught and quickly adjusted the temperature to be less frigid. Opening his eyes he groaned at the evidence of what his fantasies had done to him. Not even the cold water had erased the evidence completely. He struggled to remember the last time he’d gotten himself off, and swore again when he couldn’t remember. This had to be just pent up sexual tension. He bit back on a moan as he grasped himself firmly and started stroking.

He imagined Tadashi in the kitchen again, wearing only the apron. A bit of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth, he thought of reaching and-- 

“No, no, no, no,” Kei huffed angrily. “Get some self-control.” He released his cock and instead pinched the bridge of his nose. Disgusting. Disgusting fantasies. What the hell was wrong with him? Focus on something else, focus on something else…

He pressed his forehead against the cold tile and breathed deep, begging his mind to think of anything but his best friend. He’d had how many years to realize Tadashi’s existence in that way? More than a decade. Tadashi deserved someone who knew from the moment they met him that was special. Why the fuck was he even thinking like that? Fuck!

Kei gave into the fantasy, rationalizing it even as he began stroking himself again that it was just because it had been so long, that no one would ever know, that -- that Tadashi would probably look amazing on his knees, gazing up at Kei with that sly humor glittering in his eyes, and Kei suddenly came with a silent moan, imagining Tadashi’s mouth wrapped around his cock. 

Here, now, Kei could feel himself getting hard again just staring at the cake in the fridge and hated himself for it. He pulled it out and sank a fork into it angrily, nearing choking on it when he heard the front door open. He stuffed a giant bite into his mouth and nodded to Tadashi as he walked in. 

“You like it then?”

He nodded and shoved another bite in his mouth, not caring that he might choke to death on cake. It would be the best for him. Death by chocolate. Tadashi laughed and swiped a finger through the ganache on the plate and sucked it off his finger. Kei wanted to drop the plate and throw Tadashi against the wall.

“I think this might be the one I show to chef for the menu.”

Kei nodded pathetically and swallowed his cake. “I think it would be a great addition to the menu, Yama.”

“Thanks, Tsukki!”

Kei stared at the cake and cursed its existence as Tadashi left the kitchen to get changed. He was going to die, and it was gonna be the sweetest death ever.

***

Tadashi stared in front of him and bit back tears. He knew he’d screwed up. In front of him was supposed to be three mini pies in cherry, blueberry, and custard cream. There were three pies in front of him… but they looked nothing like a pie should. The crust edges themselves had sank down into the pie plate on one, the top of the blueberry had deflated, and the lattice on the cherry looked like something from an episode of Kitchen Nightmares.

“What went wrong?” Yukie asked him. Tadashi searched his head for an answer and came up blank. “If it helps… I don’t know myself. I didn’t watch you this time.”

“Are you sure I should be doing this?” he asked, not for the first time. Yukie took a deep breath and grabbed Tadashi by the elbow and pulled him out of the kitchen. She knocked on Kuroo’s door and opened it without waiting for an answer.

“We’re going to Shimada’s,” she said, and Kuroo looked at her with a wide eyed gaze. 

“You’re gonna bring Yamaguchi to him?”

“He mentored me,” Yukie supplied with a shrug. “I don’t see why he can’t mentor him.”

“Have fun, kid,” Kuroo said with a salute. Tadashi couldn’t help but feel like he was being sent to battle, the first sacrificial wave.

***

Shimada Mart sat in the middle of a quiet suburb in downtown Seattle. The vinyl awning was brand new, but the building was not. Yukie dragged Tadashi inside despite his resistance. The door didn’t chime when they opened it; instead it let out a very impressive oink, and a animatronic pig did a dance next to them. The store was nearly empty save a few old ladies near the magazine stand and some school children at the counter in the back. 

Yukie marched up to the back counter and leaned forward to peck a kiss on the cheek of the blonde running the counter. 

“Yusuke.” Her voice was higher and carried a flirty lilt to it. “Not running the electronics store today?”

Yusuke smiled and shook his head. “Makoto called me early this morning, new kid didn’t show up for his shift.”

“How many days did he last?”

“One.”

“Oh dear,” Yukie sighed. “What was wrong with this one?”

“No idea. Who’s the maraca?”

Tadashi blanched and realized he was the maraca in question. He stepped back and grabbed ahold of his wrist with his other hand in hopes to stop himself from trembling.

“My new protege,” Yukie declared with unabashed pride. Tadashi blushed furiously as she pulled him to her. “I’ve decided Shimada should meet him.”

Yusuke lifted the counter top and Yukie pulled Tadashi along into a small kitchen. The smell inside was absolute heaven. Tadashi stared in awe at the layout. He couldn't believe a kitchen this small had so many pieces of state of the art equipment. There were rolling barrels labelled with different types of flour. Large jars sat on counters full of different sugars. At the back sat a large pizza oven and in front of it sat a man with parted black hair and glasses. He was reading through a copy of the Weekly Bean and Tadashi gulped when he realized it was the copy with the critique of Fukuro-Neko.

“Hello Yukie,” the man said, not looking up from the magazine. “Fukuro-Neko got four stars, though your tarts didn’t leave much of an impression.”

Tadashi froze in shock. Yukie’s tarts? Those were Bokuto’s tarts…

“Makoto,” Yukie started, “You know those are just as much his as they are mine.”

“I will acknowledge his contribution when he acknowledges he stole my protege and half my baking secrets with her.”

“Do not start with that again!” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “We have been over this so many times. He has come here personally to offer apologies to you. You made him spend a month in a rut thinking he’d actually upset you. How many times am I going to come here and have to defend my choice to move forward?”

“When you start coming here more than once every three months,” he complained finally looking up. He scowled when he realized she wasn’t alone. “Oh, for fucks sake, Yukie, you’re supposed to tell me when someone is with you so that I don’t look like an asshole!”

“You _are_ an asshole!”

“To you,” he retorted. “Not to people I don’t know.” He threw down the magazine and sat up, sighing ruefully as he extended his hand. “Makoto Shimada, I swear I am actually a really nice guy.”

Tadashi took the peace offering and noted Shimada had a firm grip, but not in a crushing way. His smile was genuine and he had laugh lines hiding behind the lenses of his glasses. “Tadashi Yamaguchi.”

“He’s the new me at Fukuro-Neko,” Yukie informed him. Shimada smiled and threw an arm over Tadashi’s shoulders. 

“So she brought you to me. What school did you go to?”

“Seattle University.”

“I didn’t know they had a culinary program,” he replied, gentle mirth in his voice.

“They… they don’t. I… went for accounting,” Tadashi clenched his fist and felt a wave of nausea pass over him.

“You like math?” Shimada asked. “Numbers sort of just make sense to you?”

“Ummm,” Tadashi stumbled over his words and began to feel light headed. “It just seemed like a good option. My foster father always said to pick a job that would always be needed… and there’s… there’s… there’s always going to be money.”

He could feel it coming. That sudden sense of dread. He was going to be hit with wave after wave of panic until he was nothing but a pile on the floor, hardly human, and utterly mortified that anyone other than Tsukki was witnessing him melt down over a couple of questions. Shimada was saying something, but he could barely hear him over the sound of blood rushing to his head. 

“So how did you end up at Fukuro-Neko?” he asked, and Tadashi gaped and felt his skin go clammy. “You okay?” Shimada’s voice had gone sharp, concerned.

Tadashi felt the world spin around him and he was sure he would plummet into the center of the earth, shuddering all the while as he swayed.

Instead he found himself sitting in a chair, a cup of hot tea in his hands and Yukie pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. She was talking but he had no clue what she was saying. Either way her voice was soothing and he thought he might just ask if he could record her talking, so he could play it the next time something like this happened. His vision swirled and black dots peppered his peripherals. 

“Tadashi?” Yukie, kneeled in front of him and cupped his cheeks with her hands. “Blink twice if you can hear me, okay?”

Tadashi blinked as she asked and the spots in his vision began to go away. Yukie’s voice grounded him and he was nearly ashamed at the way he leaned into the touch of her hands on his face. It was soft and comforting, something he had missed for many years. Softness, kindness, and that… _maternal_ touch.

“You alright son?” Shimada asked. That last word opened a floodgate in Tadashi and he was spilling his entire life story two near complete strangers. 

He told them how his parents died in a car accident when he was twelve. How he’d moved to Seattle because that’s where his foster family lived. That Kei had been the only friend he’d ever made, and that he didn’t think he was capable of having any others. He talked about how accounting just seemed like the right thing to do, especially under the consistent recommendation from his foster father. People would always need them. Why bother looking into anything else? He told them how one morning he looked in the mirror and realized that he looked like his father. That the reflection in the mirror was his father, and yet… it wasn’t.

His parents had been quietly, passionately in love with life and their son and working towards what was important to them. Tadashi? Tadashi had simply fallen into accounting, and he’d wondered what it might be like, to light up with joy and pursue something he adored. Even persnickety, particular Kei had found deep satisfaction in his work, despite how rarely he admitted it, and the intensity of his golden eyes were enthralling as he described the problems he tackled. That realization had set off a chain reaction that led to him being incapable of doing the job he had spent four years learning how to do.

“And so… I wasted four years of my life,” Tadashi finished, clutching the now cold cup of tea in his hands. Yukie sat next to him, a reassuring hand on his knee. Shimada hadn’t moved once from his spot, leaned back against the counter, arms folded. “I’m so sorry to have unloaded all of this out. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Seems to me you needed to get that out,” Shimada offered. He rested his chin in his hand and appeared to be deep in thought. “So, how quick are you with fractions? Can you do a lot of math in your head?”

Tadashi nodded, confused as to where this line of questioning was taking them.

“Well then, congratulations,” Shimada said with a wide grin. “You're already halfway qualified to be a baker.”

“I am?”

“Baking is math and science at its core,” Shimada explained. “Cooking can be adjusted as you go. But baking… baking requires precision, measurement, and most importantly, math. And you already have that down pat.”

“Told you that you were meant for this,” Yukie said with a smile and a friendly nudge, and for the first time in a long time, Tadashi felt light.

***

Kei was absolutely disgusted with himself. There was no excuse for what he had just done. No way to justify his actions. Clearly he had lost his mind and should seek medical help, because only an insane person would jerk off while smelling their best friends clothes. Well more specifically, their best friend’s chef coat, which smelled intoxicatingly like apples, cinnamon, and something Kei was beginning to recognize as simply the smell of Tadashi’s sweat.

If anything, this was Tadashi’s fault. He was the one who left his chef coat hanging in the bathroom. He was the one who kept spilling ingredients on himself. If he wasn’t so damn messy, his clothes would smell like some horrible mixture of kitchen and sweat like the rest of the chefs of the world. 

Kei had only gone into the bathroom to put a bandaid on his finger after an unfortunate paper cut. He’d been washing his hands when he noticed the chef coat on the door. He’d planned to just put it in Tadashi’s hamper for him. Kei wasn’t sure what had compelled him to smell it. It was dirty after all but that first smell of cinnamon made his toes curl. Apples came next and he could actually taste the tart Tadashi had made for him the night before. Kei was by no means a poet or a romantic, but somehow he knew the last smell was nothing but Tadashi. Kei both hated and loved the feeling it spurred in his groin.

As he washed his hands for a second time he realized this wasn’t just some passing fancy. He was well and truly falling into some sort of emotion for his best friend. Whether it was simply lust or something more was yet to be determined but two incidents of masturbation to the thought of Tadashi qualified as feeling _something_. 

He froze when he heard the sound of the key in the lock and dropped the chef coat like it had bit him. He quickly hung it back up and opened the door like he hadn’t just been jerking off in the bathroom like a fifteen year old.

“Hey, Tsukki.” Tadashi’s voice was weak and his shoulders were slumped. 

“Yama.” Kei walked towards him slowly, all concern about what he’d just done disappearing in place of concern over the naked pain and anxiety. “You all right?”

Tadashi looked at him with bloodshot eyes and shook his head. “Tsukki…”

Kei waited for a sign of what Tadashi was looking for in that moment. The years of friendship had taught him to wait and see. Sometimes Tadashi needed to breathe, sometimes he needed a hug, other times he didn’t know what he needed and Kei was left scrambling with a solution. He was hoping this was not one of those latter times. The last time it had been… well they both knew what had happened.

“I miss my parents,” he whispered, his head dropping. “Tsukki, I really miss my parents.”

Tadashi rarely spoke about his parents. Their death had been the reason he and Kei had even met. Tadashi had moved from the suburbs to the heart of Seattle when he’d been taken in by his foster family. Kei never pushed to ask about them, because Tadashi could never get more than a few words about them before changing the subject. 

“It’s been twelve years,” Tadashi started. “Twelve years and I realized that I can’t remember the sound of my mother's voice. I’ve started to forget what my dad even looked like. I’m forgetting them, Kei. I went to college and got a job doing what I thought would always make me money. Just like my foster father told me to do. No one ever asked me what I wanted to do. I never got to have that sit down where we talked about my dreams, my future, my wants.”

Kei watched his best friend simultaneously break and rebuild himself in front of him as Tadashi continued.

“I think,” he started, eyes darting back and forth. “I think I can do this. I think… no I _feel_ like this is the direction I want to go. I’ve been screwing up all week but Yukie and Shimada showed me that what I’m messing up on is only due to a lack of knowledge.” His voice slowly grew louder, and he paced around their living room, his hands gesturing wildly. “Baking is math, I can do math, we both know I am phenomenal at math. What if the math I was meant to do was _this_? What if I --” He cut himself off, suddenly standing still as he stared straight at Tsukki. “I need someone to tell me to follow my heart, because no one ever did.”

Kei held his arms open for lack of any words to say and Tadashi threw himself into them. Kei didn’t know how long they stood there, exchanging warmth, until the exhaustion in their legs led to them sprawl on the couch. Tadashi squeezed his eyes shut, his head on Kei’s chest, as Kei absent mindedly stroked through his hair. Tadashi cried on and off, his speech a string of babbling words. A mixture of thank yous, apologies, and gibberish. Kei shushed them all and kept his grip tight, lest Tadashi think for one minute Kei wanted to be anywhere else.

Tadashi’s breath evened out and he was soon asleep, a hint of drool pooling near the corner of his lip. Kei pressed a kiss to the top of his head, knowing it would be likely his only chance to ever do so. “Hey Yama,” he whispered, “I love you. Follow your heart.”

Kei froze when he heard Tadashi mumble and he panicked as Tadashi shifted and looked up at him, his eyes half open, with a sleepy smile. “Me too, Tsukki, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never had this much fun writing a chapter I swear!
> 
> Please oh please listen to Cake by the Ocean and picture sweet Yama shimmying those hips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Kristin, as promised tender loving smut

Tadashi stared at himself in the mirror and hardly recognized the person looking back at him. The dark shadows were painfully prominent, and his cheeks had gotten hollow, yet his expression was set in a smile he couldn’t seem to get rid of. He was actually happy -- happy and excited. He was going to go back to Fukuro-Neko and tell Yukie he was ready. He was going to let her guide him and he was going to embrace his new path. He quickly snapped a selfie and sent it in a text.

**Tadashi __**_9:03am_

I blame you for this :)

**Tsukki __**_9:06am_

Are you actually smiling? I didn’t think you knew how to do that anymore.

**Tadashi __**_9:10am_

Shut up Tsukki

**Tsukki __**_9:12am_

I don’t know if I like the new Yama. He keeps stealing my lines

**Tadashi __**_9:14am_

Sorry Tsukki

**Tsukki __**_9:20am_

That’s more like it. Bring home something with chocolate in it tonight.

**Tadashi __**_9:23am_

You’re going to get fat if I keep bringing you home cakes

**Tsukki __**_9:25am_

Don’t care, bring me the chocolate… and a cookie

***

Kei stared at the code in front of him and sighed. It was time to face the hard truth. It was done, it was perfect, it was absolutely complete. He’d finished what had been projected to be a five week project in only three. If he’d agreed to having Andres as a partner, he might have gotten held up. He could have remained distracted.

He sighed and forwarded the necessary files to his boss and leaned back in his chair. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted one of the few pictures he’d deigned to decorate his office with, this one of him and Tadashi in their first dorm room together. Tadashi’s hair was too short to be tied back, too long to not hang in his eyes. Kei’s glasses were broken from his brother Akiteru throwing a box at him. They were smiling despite all of that, and Kei’s gaze lingered on the picture, quiet pleasure settling inside him.

He still couldn’t believe he had managed to share a room with Tadashi for nearly four years without once thinking of him as anything other than his closest friend. He’d even walked in on Tadashi shirtless with an equally undressed female freshman, sophmore year without considering it. Tadashi had flushed and used his own body to shield his distressed partners bare chest while stammering various high-pitched iterations of Kei’s name. Kei had blinked twice and left to go study in the library until he’d gotten a text saying he was clear to come home. 

Kei shook his head and cleared away the thoughts of Tadashi and his freckled back and chest. Anyone looking at Tadashi would venture to guess that he was freckled from head to toe. It was only Kei who knew that the ones on his left shoulder blade looked like aquila, though, only Kei had been trusted close enough to inspect the spray of stars on Tadashi’s skin. He was pretty sure if given a chance he could find more constellations. 

He was also absolutely disgusted with the level of romanticism his thoughts strayed to these days. 

His phone rang and he silently thanked it for interrupting his train of thought. “Tsukishima.”

“That code is absolute perfection,” his boss, Futakuchi, raved over the phone. “I still can’t believe you managed this in three weeks time. I should let you work alone more often.”

“I’ve been telling you that since you hired me,” Kei retorted. He’d been all but begging to do solo work for months and this was the perfect opportunity. A law firm in the city was changing their filing system and they needed a program that integrated their old files into the new system. Kei had practically drooled at the very thought of developing that code. Now that it was done, he hoped it would show he was better off alone. It would give him more chances to acquire projects that would take up his time.

“Well, the good news is since you’re finished I can send you to Fukuro-Neko. Kuroo was very upset when I told him Andres would coming to do the diagnostics check. He nearly asked to push back the visit, but since I thought you’d take much longer...”

Kei breathed hard. Fukuro-Neko’s systems were his pride and joy. His baby. His literal brain child. He’d developed a program that calculated inventory, sales, and all the other details into one place. It showed par levels for everything down to the last ounce. It was a work of art, and Fukuro-Neko had taken a chance and allowed themselves to be one of the first restaurants to test it. They’d put up with all the bugs, defrags, and tune ups Kei had needed to implement but had completely fallen in love with the program. As a result, once a year Kei was treated to lunch and dinner on the house for however as many days he needed to spend at the restaurant double checking the code and the systems. Sending anyone else to do that job was absolute heresy and the thought of Andres touching his code made his skin crawl.

“You were going to send Andres instead of me?” Kei gritted out. “He would have done something to fuck it up and you’d have had to send me regardless.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you finished early,” Futakuchi retorted without pause, and Kei could only gaze up at the ceiling and thank whoever was listening that, for once, the stars had aligned in Kei’s favor.

***

“Tada...shi!” Bokuto exclaimed with a flourish and a wink, as he presented an array of desserts to his boyfriend. “The new and improved dessert menu of Fukuro-Neko, all here for your enjoyment! I’m hoping for a _gentle_ critique, Mr. Kozushi.”

Tadashi kept his back straight and refused to allow his nervousness to show. Bokuto had raved over the new additions he had suggested to their dessert menu. He’d even listened when Tadashi suggested ways to reinvent their current desserts. Now, it was being tested by the person who Bokuto had deigned the only one worthy of testing recipes: well known food critic, Kenji Kozushi, or rather -- Keiji Akaashi, Bokuto’s boyfriend.

Akaashi, as he preferred to be called, smiled and looked over the selection in front of him. Tadashi had painstakingly made sample size versions of all their desserts, feeling like he was going to throw up the whole time. He held his breath when the first one Akaashi went to try was the chocolate cherry torte. Bokuto had sworn up and down it was one of the best he’d ever tasted, but if Akaashi didn’t approve of it…

“This is absolutely phenomenal, Yamaguchi,” he said in that quiet, measured way of his. It was almost at odds with the way he was, savoring every lick of ganache he could get off the spoon. “The cherry infusion is strong without tasting artificial.”

“I used bordeaux cherries,” Tadashi offered, eager to explain his recipe. Akaashi nodded and looked mournfully at the plate. 

“I guess I shoulda told you a little bigger than sample size, Gucci,” Bokuto said with a laugh, squeezing Akaashi’s shoulder. “Keiji has a bigger stomach than me.”

Tadashi blushed furiously at the nickname Chef had decided to give him. Gucci, as though he was some sort of high end fashion and not someone just figuring his life out. He’d begged Yukie to talk him out of the nickname, but she’d shrugged and said talking Bokuto out of that name wasn’t worth the effort. 

“Besides, I think it suits you,” she had remarked with a grin.

It had taken a month, plenty of instruction from both Yukie and Shimada, and a lot of practice at home, but Tadashi was about to become the official patisserie of Fukuro-Neko. Well, so long as his desserts pleased both Chef and chef’s boyfriend, and Tadashi wasn’t sure which he’d been more nervous about. Kuroo had assured him over and over again that Akaashi coming for a tasting was a formality, nothing more than Bokuto trying to impress his new love and make him feel special. Tadashi wished Bokuto could find a way to make Akaashi feel special without causing him untoward anxiety over the prospect of failure.

He caught sight of Yukie standing near Kuroo’s office, just out of view of the small group watching Akaashi level judgement on Tadashi’s work. She flashed him a smile and a thumbs up before her expression suddenly changed. She held a hand to her mouth and her eyes crossed like she was holding back a burp. Konoha spotted her and went rushing over. He put an arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. She flushed and and punched him in the arm. 

Akaashi was saying something about the strawberry champagne cake and Tadashi quickly brought his attention back. He caught enough to know that it was nothing but praise, and Akaashi smiled in pleasure between every bite. Tadashi was starting to see why Bokuto was so enamored with him. It sort of reminded Tadashi of the faces Kei made when he would eat whatever sweet Tadashi brought home: an expression suffused with soft warmth. 

He sighed quietly to himself. _Not again_. He’d tamped down that crush years ago, or so he thought. Every few years something would happen that would remind him why he’d fallen for Kei over and over again. Whether it was the schoolyard crush when he was twelve that had made Kei his unexpected protector and best friend, and Tadashi’s first clue at his yet undiscovered bisexuality. He’d gotten over his crush by the time they were fifteen and Tadashi had thought that would be the end of it. 

When they’d been at a party their sophomore year in college, Kei had disappeared upstairs with an equally tall and willowy blonde. Tadashi had left the party before it became obvious to anyone else that his heart had broken just a little bit by the sight of Kei’s first significant other. He’d gotten over it quickly enough and had enough pride to be slightly embarrassed when Kei walked in on him half naked with his first girlfriend. He let it go completely by the time Kei met Thomas, even after the latter had moved across the country after graduation. 

“Amazing.” Akaashi’s praise brought him back to the reality at hand, but the smiles on his and Bokuto’s face told Tadashi that everything was going to be fine. He’d found himself a new career, a new direction in life, and even better, what felt like a home. It had only been a month and yet he felt like he had known some of them his entire life. Kaori was less like a stranger and more like a sister every day. They laughed at Komi as he struggled to reach things they could grab easily from high shelves. Sarukui had a joke for any kind of situation, his near permanent smile infectious as he had everyone rolling with his anecdotes. Onaga was shy when Tadashi had first shown up, but had warmed quickly when he found out that Tadashi was just as unsure about his future when had been his age. Even Washio had smiles for him.

It wasn’t just the line that he’d grown close to. The prep cooks Fukunaga and Aone had let him in on some of their inside jokes. Komi had accused Tadashi of witchcraft for even getting to speak more than five words with the pair.

“They don’t talk!” he’d declared loudly when Tadashi had shared a joke they’d told him. “You come in here in the morning and its absolute silence. On days they work together there’s laughter, but only if no one else is in the kitchen!”

“Well, I get here early enough to be privy to their jokes I guess,” Tadashi had countered, earning a withering glare from the diminutive chef.

His new schedule had him leaving the house before Kei woke up and home well before he’d come back from his own job. Plus Kei had taken on a project a few weeks ago that occupied nearly all of his time. Tadashi had wanted to talk about the hug and the eventual cuddling it had turned into but hadn’t found the time -- or, to be honest, the courage. Kei had never expressly told him to follow his heart, but his actions had sent the message and Tadashi kept convincing himself that it was enough, it was all he needed. 

He and Kei had never been shy about physical affection, but the cuddling? That was new. He wasn’t opposed to it, in fact there was a part of him that desperately wanted to do it again, but Kei was keeping him at a distance while also fretting over him in the most unsubtle ways possible. It was endearing and completely unexpected. Kei had always been there for him, in his own ways and by letting Tadashi figure out this on his own terms. This newfound tenderness was beyond what Tadashi expected of his taciturn friend and Tadashi found his heart too full in his chest. 

***

Kei’s annual check up on the systems at Fukuro-Neko was usually the highlight of his year. He was treated to some of the best food in the city, got to spend time with two people he’d begrudgingly become close friends with, and got to beam with pride when every single year his system proved to be everything he’d promised it would be.

“Oi! Tsukki, you’re here!” Bokuto declared loudly as Kei walked into the kitchen. Tadashi looked up and gave him a smile and a wave before returning his focus to the dough he was rolling out in front of him. Kei hoped it was for a pie. He’d been craving pie.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Why not? Gucci gets to call you that,” Kuroo countered.

“Gucci?” Kei asked. “Who the hell is…” His eyes turned to Tadashi, whose ears were turning a deep shade of red. “No, no you are not calling him that while I am around, I refuse.”

“Awww come on!” Bokuto whined, while heading over to give Kei a welcome hug. Kei didn’t return it, but he didn’t fight it off, either. “It's a good name for him!”

“It's fine,” Tadashi countered weakly before Kei could keep arguing.

“See, Gucci likes it!”

“He does not, he’s just too nervous to tell you otherwise.”

“Tsukki!” That was Kuroo’s interjection, breaking up what was building into yet another friendly spat between Bokuto and Kei. Although Kei narrowed his eyes at Bokuto, who just grinned broadly at him, Kei turned to Kuroo, shaking his hand before following him into his office.

“So, we need to have a little chat,” Kuroo said as Kei got his laptop set up at the extra desk Kuroo had hauled in for him. Nothing more than one of their extra two-top tables and a cushioned chair. “About a little white lie you told me.”

Kei looked up but refused to show that his heart pounded in his chest and continued to connect his laptop to Kuroo’s desktop. “I lied about Tadashi,” Kei admitted easily, hoping that would be the end of the matter.

“Yes you did,” Kuroo replied, trying to sound accusatory, though his easy smile belied his tone. “Why?”

Kei shrugged and declined to respond. Doing so would be a betrayal of trust. Kuroo sighed and kicked back into his chair, propping his feet up on the desk. “Either way, I should thank you for it.”

Kei was caught off guard and dropped his cables. “What?”

“That kid has been exactly what we needed back here.” Kuroo’s easy smile turned to a wide grin and his eyes crinkled. “Bokuto finally has a pastry chef again. He was miserable without Yukie around. Plus Tadashi fits in so well with everyone. He’s… his joy is infectious.”

“He’s been a lot happier lately,” Kei agreed, refusing to look up, because he did not want Kuroo too see the way his lips curved into a smile he couldn’t contain. He’d seen the way Tadashi had changed over the weeks. The dark circles lightened while his freckles darkened, and the hollows of his cheeks had finally filled in. His smiles were easy and frequent in a way Kei hadn’t seen since college. He’d almost forgotten they existed.

“I’m almost upset that I’m so transparent you knew exactly what to say to me to push for his immediate hire,” Kuroo said, interrupting his musings.

Kei looked up at that with a smirk. “You’re easy to read, Kuroo. Almost as easy as code.”

“Kenma says that too.”

“How is he?” Kei was familiar with Kuroo’s new found friend and Kenma would act as an easy distraction. 

Kuroo smiled wide and his expression was wistful. Kei hated that he could tell. “He’s great. At a conference out in Vegas. Keeps messaging me to tell me how all the desserts are terrible and he wants an entire pie when he gets back.”

“I am sure Tadashi will be more than happy to make one for him.”

“Tadashi has become Kenma’s new favorite person. He keeps making apple desserts for me to take when I go to his place on Tuesdays. He’s gonna make everyone around here fat.”

Kei laughed despite himself, and Kuroo grinned back, pleased. “He warned me I was gonna get fat from all the desserts I keep making him bring home for me.”

“You are looking a little fuller in the cheeks,” Kuroo said, leaning over to pinch Kei’s face. He barked out a laugh when Kei slapped his hand away and got down to work.

***

Kei’s last day at Fukuro-Neko was also Tadashi’s day off. Onaga was running the station and informed Kei he was under strict instructions not to give him anything when Kei came by begging for sweets in the afternoon.

“He did what?” Kei demanded. Not once during the last three days had Tadashi refused him, and now that he wasn’t there suddenly he was cut off from sweets.

“Yamaguchi said he’s making something at home and if I let you eat your fill of sweets while you are here you won’t have an appetite for it.”

“That’s a bald-faced lie and he knows it. Just give me one cookie, Onaga,” Kei wheedled. If begging didn’t do it, he was willing to use force. “One cookie to go with my coffee.”

“Have a bran muffin, Tsukki,” Kuroo called, tossing a bag of them at him. “Some fiber will maybe absorb the salt you’ve accumulated over the years.”

Kei caught Sarukui snickering and grimaced at the smell of the muffins. He dropped the bag onto the counter and scowled. Tadashi better be making something incredible. He grumbled to himself and headed into the office to start up his final diagnostics check, half listening to the chatter from the kitchen.

“Yamaguchi just can’t get enough of this place, huh,” Komi mused. “Bakes at home too.”

“It's a sure sign he was meant to be here,” Kaori noted. “I do fruit carving for my nieces and nephews when I babysit them.”

“Kitchen’s too quiet without Gucci here,” Bokuto whined and there was a chorus of voices agreeing with him. 

“Hey, Chef,” Fukunaga called out. “Remember when Gucci walked up to you with that pan?”

There was a roar of laughter that Kei knew for a fact was Washio, he nearly fell out of his chair at the sound of so much delight coming from something Tadashi had done. Bokuto laughed heartily as well.

“Chef, I think there’s a leak in this pan!” Bokuto shouted.

“You were ready to throw a fit!” Washio managed to get the words out between his laughter, but only just.

“Well, there was a _leek_ in the pan after all,” Kaori giggled. “I was so proud of him. Good pun, excellent work.”

Kei looked up and saw Kuroo smiling at his computer screen. Their eyes met and Kuroo grinned. “Told you he’s been a great asset. You’ve got a great best friend, Kei.”

Kei could only nod as he listened to the laughter in the kitchen, as yet another story about Tadashi was told.

***

Soft music played in the kitchen when Kei opened the front door. The song was purely instrumental, a lilting combination of piano and strings. He could hear Tadashi humming along and Kei peeked his head around the corner to watch him. Tadashi was folding strawberries in a whipped cream mixture. Two round yellow cakes sat on dishes next to him, with an unopened bottle of champagne. He caught Kei staring at him and jumped.

“Tsukki,” he said. “Gonna stick a damn bell on you if you keep lurking about the apartment.”

Kei pursed his lips together. “You never told me about the leek in the pan.”

Tadashi paused and tilted his head. “Oh, well it took me so long to come up with that joke, and,” He bit his lip. “And it never seemed to be the right time. You’ve been -- ” Tadashi paused, and Kei could pinpoint the moment he decided to take the leap. “Kei, ever since I asked you about me pursuing this you’ve been, well, not here.”

Kei could see the hurt in Tadashi’s eyes and knew he had put it there. It hit him like a punch to the gut. All those smiles over the last month, the happiness, all of it wasn’t there in any way shape or form because of him. He’d happily vanished into his code to drown any possible feelings he might have in the hopes that when he broke the surface of the water, they could be Kei-and-Tadashi again. The romance had no place between them, not after all this time. Somewhere along the way, Kei had restrained himself so much that he and Tadashi couldn’t sync at all.

“Yama,” he began, and stopped, swallowing. How did one tell their best friend they’d developed new feelings for them? How does one say, I think I’ve fallen for you, but I’m not sure cause I don’t even know what that is supposed to feel like? “I want you to always tell me about your day, I love hearing how happy you are it's just…”

“I go on too much?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“Its…,” Kei searched for a way to explain his feelings, to explain that from the moment he had come home smelling like heaven something had awoken inside him. “You didn’t shower the first time you came home and I...”

“I smell?”

“Yes,” Kei said quickly before smacking himself in the head as he buried his face in his palms. “That came out wrong and I, shit!”

“Tsukki…”

“You smell like a bakery all the time and it’s making me lose my damn mind,” he said without thinking and the instant he said it, turned to leave, mortified. 

He wasn’t supposed to just blurt that out, not when he’d only just figured out that the feelings he was having went far beyond the platonic nature of his relationship with Tadashi. No, he was supposed to plan this correctly and carefully consider what to say and if it was a good idea to even say it. He’d had a month to do that and he’d just spent the time avoiding Tadashi. Kei could just laugh it off, tell Tadashi smelling him makes him hungry. No, making a joke like that would only confuse him now, and possibly hurt him further. He’d seen enough people hurt Tadashi and he was already hating that he’d managed to do that himself. It was too late to go back now.

Kei forced himself to turn to face Tadashi once more, stomach roiling. He pressed his fingers to his lips, like if he swallowed the words crowding his tongue, he could save this mess, save their friendship. Tadashi stared at him, eyes wide, the spray of freckles across his nose so sweet that Kei wanted to kiss every single one.

“I like you.”

“You… like _me?”_ Tadashi gasped.

“Yes, you,” Kei said, ready to quash Tadashi’s insecurities. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Tadashi fixed him with a look and gestured to all of himself. “I’m… I’m me, Tsukki and you’re you.”

“What?”

“You’re you,” he repeated helplessly. “You’re confident and smart, you don’t give a damn about what anyone has to say about you, and I spent two weeks trying to find a way to say a pun to my boss.” He shook his head. “I thought -- when you disappeared into your work, I…” he trailed off, fingers twisted in his apron.

“You made the entire kitchen stop and laugh, though,” Kei said, reaching forward to hesitantly take Tadashi’s hands into his own. Their fingers interlocked and Kei absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against Tadashi’s skin. “Everyone kept talking about how much they missed you today. About how you bring light into the kitchen. It reminded me again how much light you bring to my life.”

“Tsukki…”

“That’s just one of the things I like about you,” Kei continued, knowing if he didn’t get it all out now he’d clam up again.

Tadashi slid closer to him and bit his lip. “What else is there?”

Kei smiled and inhaled, a little shaky. Tadashi’s hair smelled like the cake he’d been baking -- baking for Kei. “I like that you are unapologetically kind. I like that you ramble when you are passionate about something.”

Tadashi blushed and Kei took the chance to tilt his chin up to face him. He ran a finger over his cheeks. “I like that you are covered in freckles. Your skin is like a map to the stars.”

“Tsukki,” he breathed. “I… I like you too. I like your smile, because it’s so rare and I know how special I am to get to see it. I like your laugh. I like the way you squint when you take your glasses off to clean them and try to look at me.”

Of all the things that Kei had considered as the outcome to his ill-considered confession, Tadashi’s bright gaze as he spoke, filled with a lifetime of love, was not one of them.

Kei swallowed the rest of Tadashi’s words with a kiss that should have happened years ago. A kiss that Kei was damn sure would kill him for how final it felt. It was as though his entire life had somehow been meant to culminate in their mouths meeting. He nearly scoffed at his own sappiness before his mind buzzed from the realization that Tadashi’s tongue was lightly skimming over his bottom lip. 

He pushed Tadashi against the counter and stopped when he let out a yelp. Before Kei could ask what he’d done wrong, Tadashi started giggling as he lifted his hand. It was covered in whipped cream from landing in the bowl. His giggles dissipated into soft sighs, however, as Kei took Tadashi’s wrist in his hand and slid his tongue over Tadashi’s fingers. Kei moaned at the sweetness of the whipped cream mixed with the tartness of the strawberries. 

“Tsukki,” Tadashi gasped. Kei had his thumb in his mouth and was sucking on it hungrily.

“I have been wanting to do that for over a month,” Kei groaned, licking every last bit of cream he could get. “Ever since I came home and you were dancing to that stupid, stupid song.”

Tadashi smirked and surged forward to capture Kei’s lips. His teeth grazed Kei’s bottom lip and lifted a leg to pull Kei flush against him, and suddenly the heat Kei had bottled up poured out of him. Kei’s hands skimmed the bottom of Tadashi’s t-shirt and pulled at it. Tadashi released him long enough to be stripped and reached up to start unbuttoning Kei’s shirt as well, both of them hasty and clumsy and painfully eager. 

Kei stuck a finger into the bowl of whipped cream and traced a streak of whipped cream down the middle of Tadashi’s chest, from collarbone to his navel. Kneeling, he pressed his mouth to Tadashi’s hip bone and nibbled before running his tongue across his stomach and working his way up the cream he’d left. Tadashi’s fingers curled into his hair and gripped tight as Kei licked and sucked his way up Tadashi’s chest. Kei pinched Tadashi’s nipple as he finished, eliciting a squeal.

“Kei.” Tadashi was breathing hard. “God Kei, you.” He couldn’t finish any of his thoughts, let alone his sentences. He’d hoped that making strawberry short cake for Kei would close some of the distance between him, and instead he found himself shivering in his kitchen with nerves as Kei’s molton eyes studied him.

“Fuck,” Kei groaned. He stood for a moment, resting his forehead against Tadashi’s. Their lips were so close to touching that it was like an ache. “I can’t… Tadashi. Please. Say this is alright.” He opened his eyes slowly, and didn’t know when he’d closed them. Tadashi’s face was flushed, mouth soft, and Kei couldn’t look away.

“Yes,” Tadashi breathed into that delicate space between them, and Kei shuddered.

They were a mess of hands and missed kisses as they scrambled to remove their clothes, finally standing naked in the kitchen. Kei had half a mind to realize how incredibly filthy all of it was, how ridiculous it would be that they were about to have sex in their kitchen. The other half could scarcely give one damn because Tadashi’s hand had just wrapped around his cock and there would be no going back from this. His back arched as he let out a whine and leaned heavily into the touch. 

“Wanted you for years,” Tadashi whispered. Kei breathed hard and kissed him deeply, tongues intertwining.

“I didn’t know,” he said, pressing their foreheads together again. He couldn’t get enough of this closeness, this warmth, this desire. “I only -- just now.”

“It’s okay.” Tadashi laughed in his ear before giving it a nibble. “Don’t stop touching me and I’ll forgive you.”

Kei wrapped his hand around both their lengths and began to stroke them together. Tadashi panted heavily in his ear, a mixture of moans and Kei’s name. His hand felt rough against his own skin, though, but just as the feeling started to outweigh the pleasure, something slick dribbled down his hand. Tadashi unashamedly poured a bit more olive oil from the bottle he kept on the counter onto their joined lengths. The slick sensation outweighed any thought Kei had about how filthy all of this was, and he stroked them both while Tadashi pressed up against him, kissing him thoroughly 

Kei came hard and Tadashi followed a moment later. They collapsed against each other, breathing heavily. In that fragile silence, they kissed again, Tadashi slow and achingly sweet.

As the high of his orgams wore off, however, Kei began to become more and more aware of how filthy he was. Between the whipped cream, the oil, and their own come… 

“Oh god,” he griped and Tadashi hummed. He pressed a kiss to Kei’s jaw. “We are filthy.”

“Mmmm,” Tadashi agreed, still high on the afterglow. “Should clean me up then. Carry me to the shower.”

Kei grinned and pulled Tadashi in close again, running his fingers through Tadashi’s hair and pulling his hair out of its tie in the process. Tadashi closed his eyes and smiled. “Tadashi,” Kei whispered. Tadashi kept his eyes closed as Kei leaned in close. “I love you.”

Tadashi kissed him softly and whispered back against his lips. “Love you too Tsukki.”

**Author's Note:**

> I kept swearing I would write the Tsukiyama portion of this series and lo and behold here it is!
> 
> Stay tuned for more gratuitous smelling of pastry chefs
> 
> Special thanks to Rosa for her wonderful beta work and for being a phenomenal sounding board!


End file.
